


Burning Low

by vayleen



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-28
Updated: 2010-03-28
Packaged: 2017-12-08 19:45:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vayleen/pseuds/vayleen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He watched her sleep, unfitfully.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burning Low

The sky was blue and white hot. Small, cumulus clouds were forming in the sky above the shore. It was the perfect weather to watch for falling stars. Or rather, meteors, which was what Sokka was doing. Statistically, he doubted he’d get another rock from space, however it was the same time of year he found the first one before the war and if one were to fall it’d fall around the same areas. Namely, the Fire Nation’s islands.

Sweat beaded on his forehead, so he dumped another cup of water on top of his head to cool off. His hair plastered to his neck and face. He was growing it, customary for a decorated war veteran. After the war, his grandmother had presented him with three turquoise beads she had gently carved herself, and he planned on weaving them into his hair, when it was long enough, to honor his family.

Despite how annoying it was when it was hot and humid, it also made him look older and more masculine, which did wonders for his ego.

Sokka heard Katara before he saw her. He knew his sister so well, he could pick her out in a crowd by the way her weight hit the ground as she walked, in any sort of weather, snow or not. He could even pick up on her moods. For instance, he could tell that Katara was annoyed, possibly pissed, by the how heavy her feet hitting the ground and how quickly she pushed off the front of her foot to get to her goal. It made him wish he could quickly blend into his surroundings and hide like a cavy chameleon.

But he was obviously Katara’s goal.

“Sokka,” she said when she stopped, “I need your help.”

Sokka turned around to look at her. She was standing behind him with her hands on her hips, not looking at him, so that meant she wasn’t angry at him, but angry about something else. She looked tired too, exhausted by whatever task was at hand, so Sokka’s protective streak kicked it and automatically was going to help her.

“What’s up, Katara?”

“It’s ridiculously hot today,” Katara said. “Awful for this time of year.”

Sokka was bewildered. If his sister wanted him to change the weather, he wasn’t sure what he could pull off on short notice.

“I have to go meet with the royal council with an update and I have to keep those idiot Fire Nation physicians from screwing around with my work. I need you to…” Katara hesitated and Sokka inwardly groaned, guessing what she was about to say. “I need you to watch Azula for an hour or two.”

_Spirits save me,_ Sokka thought glumly.

He didn’t disguise his pout from Katara, and she responded with both amusement and exhasperation.

“For crying out loud, she is barely even awake right now. The heat, her fever, she’s so out of it that you barely have to do anything. Just keep her forehead cool.”

Sokka has consented to doing it before Katara even asked, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. Katara was doing her best for Azula as a favor for Zuko and Aang, something Sokka respected and admired. The former princess was currently imprisoned in a building on a tiny island off the coast of the main Fire Nation palace. It was a lush building, meant to house only the richest noble criminals in comfort while they lived out their sentences after trial. But Azula was the only prisoner here now, the other nobles moved elsewhere by the Fire Lord’s decree. The only way to and from the island was by boat or airship, except, of course, for Katara and Aang. Katara once walked the twenty-five mile journey across the ocean, when she was angry at the Fire Nation navy for postponing their first trip to the island for over half a day, preventing the Water Tribe healer from reaching her patient.

The island itself was one a mile and a half in diameter more or less. Sokka knew the entire shoreline by heart, and even enjoyed walking along it while he waited for Katara, except when it was excessively hot.

“You’re taking the boat across, right?” Sokka asked.

Katara didn’t bother to answer as she walked off towards the dock, a sure sign that whatever was bothering her was bad.

Sokka left her to her meeting and walked back up to the main building, where Azula would be waiting. She was not in her inner bed chamber, which Sokka had never seen, but on a chaise in the sitting room sleeping unfitfully. Sokka immediately went to the chair and table next to the chaise and tended to her using the water and cloth Katara had left on the table.

Azula flinched towards him. “Katara?” she moaned, quietly, and Sokka had to strain to hear her.

It was an honest mistake. The water was unnaturally cold, probably something Katara did to it, and Sokka had a strong sense of his sister when he dipped his hands into it, like the smallest part of her effort remained in it to keep it cool. Azula was extremely attached to Katara, and Sokka suspected Katara was reciprocating the feeling. Sometimes she even exceeded Zuko in her advocacy for Azula’s redemption.

“It’s not your lucky day, Princess,” Sokka whispered.

He might have imagined it, but he thought he saw Azula smile. “Bastard,” she muttered.

“Only when it’s this hot,” Sokka responded.

He gently washed Azula’s face and neck clean of sweat. Despite the heat, she was shivering under a blanket, which worried him. He replaced the cloth in the bowl, then rested his hand on her forehead. She was burning terribly, so much his fingertips felt slightly scorched, so he removed them and dipped them in the water.

“Katara says she hasn’t seen my fever this high in months,” Azula whispered. “But I’m so cold, and I feel so lucid.”

Azula probably wouldn’t be lucid for long, Sokka thought. Her eyes were so dialated that the golden irises were tiny slivers. She was breathing in quick, short breathes, and would probably pass out soon, back into the fever. Katara and Iroh went back and forth on Azula’s health. Being a strong bender, Iroh suspected she was on a spiritual detox as Zuko once was, now that the evil influence was fading from the Fire Nation and its people. But Ozai had a strong influence over his daughter. Her fever had lasted off and on for months. Katara worried that it would be too much for Azula’s physical wellbeing and that she wouldn’t last the fever, or be permanently impaired by it. Stubborly, Zuko believed his sister was strong enough to endure it, if she had the will to. And even that was in question. In her less lucid moments, Azula violently struggled with her old belief that the Fire Nation should be the all powerful influence over the world.

“I can’t tell the difference between you lucid and you crazy. It’s all the same to me,” Sokka teased.

“At least I’m not a dirty peasant,” Azula said, shifting in her blanket so she leaned more to her side, facing the chair.

“Oh, we’re going to debate on who’s dirtier, are we?” Sokka said.

He immediately regretted the jibe when Azula’s small smile disappeared into a frown. Azula was still used to the rich and noble life, she was still vain. At that moment, she was unmade-up, and her hair was oily and lank. She probably hadn’t moved much in days and Katara could only do so much with soap, water and cloth when Azula was weak. To be fair, the blanket covered up most of the earthiness in the way Azula smelled.

Azula brought the blanket closer to her neck. Sokka wondered if she was being self-conscious or if she was cold again.

“I’ll say it again,” Azula said. “Bastard.”

She was silent for awhile and Sokka lost himself in thought. Katara wanted him to be nice to the Fire Nation princess, but Sokka had tried to explain to her that this was just the way he and Azula were. They were always at their corners goading each other in a constant battle of quips, and as far as Sokka could tell it would always be that way.

“Sokka, do I really look a fright?” Azula suddenly asked him.

It was the perfect moment to be snide. He even had a comeback ready, poised on his tongue, but the look on her face stopped him. It was an open, honest look, and it struck a chord, so strongly that the truth was tumbling out before he could stop it.

“You never look a fright, Azula,” Sokka said, his voice hoarse with emotion he couldn’t comprehend, and gave the simple phrase deeper meaning it probably wouldn’t have carried otherwise.

Sokka couldn’t bring himself to say anything else, so he rinsed the cloth in the cold water again and started washing her forehead. She gently leaned into his hand as he cooled her face. Then, as an afterthought, he replaced the cloth in the bowl and started brushing the stray strands of black hair away from her face, ignoring the burning in his fingers as he touched her skin. Azula sighed and closed her eyes. The tension drained from her face. Sokka suddenly thought that she looked vulnerable in that moment, yet peaceful, almost sweet. He marveled at her. Without thinking, he replaced the final hair behind her ear and then traced her jawline with his fingertips from her ear to her chin before pulling away.

Azula shivered again. Sokka hoped it was from the cold. He suddenly noticed his heart was beating faster than it should have been and there was a lump in his throat that made his chest feel heavy when he swallowed. A torrent of emotion was hitting him hard and he leaned back in the chair, away from her, as though that would stave it off. Azula didn’t notice. She was already asleep. Sokka envied her that peace.

* * *

Three days went by since then, and Sokka thought he had successfully repressed and buried all the emotion he didn’t want to examine, everything that happened since that afternoon he watched Azula for Katara. He made excuses, and didn’t make the morning commute out to the island with Katara the next day. Instead, he chose to visit Master Piando and practice technique, clear his head. For some reason he wanted distance, and he wasn’t going to think about why.

Sokka returned to the palace feeling more at peace. He took the afternoon boat out to Azula’s island, expecting Katara to be just about done and ready to head back to the palace. Maybe he could even convince her it was time to return to the South Pole. If he wanted distance, it wouldn’t get much better than that.

Katara was waiting at the dock, just like he suspected she would be. She smiled when she saw him, and readily embraced him.

“I have a favor to ask you,” Katara said. She laughed and squeezed his the back of his shoulders when Sokka immediately tensed and tried to pull out of the hug.

“No really,” she said. “Can you visit Azula for a minute? I have… something to do.”

“What?” Sokka demanded.

“Really, Sokka,” Katara said, ignoring his question. “I’d really appreciate it. You. Okay? How about it?”

Sokka glared at her. There was no reason why he should refuse. He’s done it before when Katara needed him to. He did it just this week. But he didn’t want to this time, and he wasn’t about to explain why to Katara. But it was either explain or go.

Sokka was turning to go up to the house when Katara called after him.

“One more thing, Sokka. Azula insisted I help her take a scented bath and wash her hair today. I know that’s not weird, but it was the first thing she wanted to do after I mentioned you were coming to the island today. She was really… insistent. More enthusiastic than I’d seen her in weeks.”

Sokka stopped but didn’t turn back around. Katara started laughing. At the sound of his sister’s fun, Sokka started walking again, careful not to turn back so that Katara could see him grin.


End file.
